


Dark Paradise

by marypoppins9310



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Blood, Dark Steve Rogers, F/F, F/M, Guns, Multi, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, Violence, dark bucky barnes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:07:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29880195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marypoppins9310/pseuds/marypoppins9310
Summary: Mob Boss! Steve and Bucky/Original Female Character.She was a changed woman, there was no denying it. Where had their sweet, naïve, little girl gone? There were no more stupidly in love smiles, no adoration shinning in her eyes, no wish to hold and be held by them. There was nothing. Only the fake illusion of a woman who plastered a charming smile on her face, who forced herself to behave like the perfect little doll to please her clients, ones who spent thousands of dollars on her just to get five minutes alone with her ethereal body, but it was all an act, a means to keep them happy and rob them of their money and their secrets without them noticing. They got to touch her, to hold her in their arms, to trace their greasy fingers on her smooth skin, and they couldn´t, wouldn´t, allow that.She was theirs. And they would make sure they all knew it.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Reader, Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s), Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	1. Preface

**Preface**

_The world is dangerous, I know that now._

_Two years ago, however, I was simply a naïve girl waiting for someone to notice her, to cherish and love her, to fall to their knees and give her the world if she asked it of them. In my naïvety, I allowed two men to rip my innocence away from me. I was manipulated, humiliated, and turned into the perfect submissive woman for them. I ignorantly, stupidly, fell in love with them, and got a broken heart in return when they threw me away like I was nothing. I had been warned, of course, by countless of people, about the rarity of my relationship with them. No one ever held their attention for long, most of the women were just flings, one night stands, but I thought I was the exception. And yet they left me, so I had to force myself to forget about them, and I opened my eyes to the rest of the world._

_Two years later, they came back into my life. It was unexpected, took all of us by surprise, I suppose, but I was a changed woman, no longer a fickle thing that could be easily manipulated. They say our relationship is toxic, and maybe it is, but it´s how it works for us. We love each other, in our way, and I guess that is enough for us._


	2. The opening of Dark Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew Martinelli´s Dark Paradise opens its doors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who don´t know, the lyrics featured in this chapter belong to the song "Show me how you burlesque", from the film "Burlesque".
> 
> Chapter warnings: coarse language.

Music echoed through the club. Bodies moved against each other, the smell of sweat and cocktails clouding the dance floor. Bartenders worked efficiently behind the bar, serving drinks left and right, sating the thirst of those who required it, hundreds of bills having already been taken to a safe somewhere in the property.

In hindsight, anyone would have expected it to be a normal club, one where young people went to pass the night on a normal Saturday, but, oh, those were only the thoughts of naïve individuals, ones who just wanted to enjoy the night drinking and hooking up with a random stranger, too busy trying to forget their own problems to notice the hidden truth behind the club.

 _Dark Paradise_ was its name. Property of one Andrew Martinelli, firstborn of Giovanni and Elia Martinelli, older sibling to two sisters, a master of business and the person who had spent thousands of dollars on his new baby, the same one that had opened its doors for the first time not even four hours ago. Blonde hair, green eyes, a body that would make any woman -and man- drool upon seeing it, and a charming smile. The perfect son, or at least that´s what his family wanted everyone outside their business to think.

Those involved in their internal affairs, however, well… they knew better. The Martinelli Family had been the head of the Italian Mafia for decades now, respected and admired by the rest of the families, running their business with an iron fist, never tolerating injustice, punishing those who would dare challenge them with brutal force. They were strict, yes, but they were also fair, and respected those who earned it, hard workers that had no tolerance for women and children who were hurt in their line of work when there was no reason for them to be.

They protected every single person who worked under them, and in return, they got loyalty, the type of loyalty that came from a family, not from fear and torture, an aspect which not every mafia family was known for. In fact, one could say only the Italian and the Brooklyn Mafias knew were true loyalty resided, which was one of the reasons why the Martinellis had been allowed to open their club in the latter city.

Thing with this was, if you wanted to build and open a new business, then you had to ask for permission from those who owned the land. And so the Italian family had sent one of their best men to meet with the Kings of Brooklyn, as they were known, to negotiate the terms and make a peace offering to two of the most well known and feared men in the United States. Once they had given their consent, the Martinellis had put everything in motion, and now, after six months, they had finally opened their doors to the rest of the world.

Of course, they had obviously made sure there could be no suspicions in regards to the true nature of the new establishment, that´s what the lower floor was for, but the real deal, the reason why they had built it, was in the upper floors. That was where all the shady business, as some would call it, took place.

The first floor was packed with men in expensive suits, all sitting in the VIP section, drinks in hand and a woman on each arm, a symbol of their wealth. They were chattering with each other, sharing a laugh, discussing the arrangements to strike a deal with a possible partner, and every other thing that one would expect from these men. It was more private and quieter than the lower floor, of course, but it had nothing on the third floor.

The third level was, without a doubt, the heart of _Dark Paradise_. This was the place destined to all mobsters, somewhere where the members of the different families were allowed to have their privacy, hidden from the ears of nosy people and possible snitches. Comfortable loveseats and plush chairs were carefully distributed around the whole space, paired with spotless tables where one could deposit their drinks or personal belongings, all laid in front of a stage. The very same stage where a group of dancers would de performing later that night, some of which were women who would be giving private services to some of the men, bit that´s just how _Dark Paradise_ worked.

The women, who the rest of the staff had taken to call roses, would satisfy the needs of the many clients, all the while getting the kind of information that men would only say after reaching their highs, unsuspecting of the poor, perfectly naïve women who they spent their time with, who they thought of as nothing more than common whores, pretty things that were meant to please those who wanted pleasure from them, all of it without a single protest.

Of course, these women did this voluntarily, the rules stated this fact very clearly, and they got their own rewards for it, mainly in large sums of money or presents from their clients. None of them would be forced to do anything they didn´t want, and those who broke this rule would be instantly taken away from the place, never to return unless they wanted a bullet in their heads. Which they really didn´t.

If one of them had a problem, then they would speak to the woman in charge of all the girls, the one who protected and shielded them from those who exceeded their limits, dealing with them with an iron fist and would accept no excuses from any of those pathetic swines. Not while many of those sexist pigs thought of them as sex objects, toys that could be discarded, raped, murdered without a second thought, none of which would happen as long as she was alive and in charge of those women.

She was the Italian Golden Rose. That´s how many of the bartenders, dancers and security guards had decided to name her, a nickname which fit her perfectly. With blonde hair and the bluest of eyes, Adrienna De Luca was an ethereal creature, beautiful and delicate when in front of her clients, deadly and dark when provoked. A rose had its thorns, after all.

Not many knew of her past before the club, only that she used to live in Brooklyn and had chosen to leave the city and change her name after a horrid event impacted her life so greatly that she couldn´t stay in her old home anymore. She had left everything behind and had come across Andrew Martinelli in a bar, the same place where he had offered her to be a part of the Martinelli Family, having seen something in her that drew him in like no other woman had been able to.

Since then, the head of the roses had been a part of the _Dark Paradise_ project, and had focused on the women who would be doing most of the hard work in the establishment. She had taken them in, interviewed them or rescued them from the streets herself, and had spent the last few weeks before the opening devoting herself to prepare her girls for every aspect they would need to keep in mind during the hours of work.

Right now, the girls were preparing themselves for their performance, already dressed and finishing the last touches of make-up. Golden pieces of clothing adorned their bodies, perfectly fitting, leaving many parts of skin uncovered, an efficient way of seducing the men and getting them ready for their private meetings after their dance. Golden shoes encased their feet, heels a few centimetres high, sparkling in the soft light of the room. Skin smooth and delicate as porcelain, darker in some of the girls, lighter in the others, for it was no secret that their clients would like the variety of girls, some exotic, some not so much, but still managing to keep all the attention on themselves without problem.

“Ladies, finish your last touches. You´re up in five” came a voice from the entrance of the room.

Maxwell stood there, arms crossed, eyes roaming the women´s almost bare bodies playfully, waiting patiently so he could escort them to the stage. A few of them giggled, already used to the brunette´s ogling, teasingly moving their bodies in response to his heated stares. This was different from the other men, obviously, otherwise they wouldn´t be so comfortable being in his presence. But they trusted him, he was kind to them, flirted like a maniac, and was an absolute hottie, which was actually a bonus. They were sure that many of the mobsters out there were nothing more than greedy, old bastards who used younger ladies to satisfy needs that would otherwise never be taken care of. Seeing Maxwell would certainly make it more bearable.

“Are you escorting us like a knight in shining armour, Maxwell?” Audrey, also known as the Pink Rose, teased with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

The man bowed mockingly, smiling back at her.

“Of course, my lady” He answered, “A lady as beautiful as you must never be alone, who knows what kind of monsters could be waiting in the dark to steal you and take you away never to be seen again”.

Though his comment elicited a few laughs, they all knew the words held some truth to them as well. Though Andrew would never let any man take any of the girls, all of them were aware of the possibility of one of them wanting to buy and whisk them away to a place where their safety would no longer be guaranteed, somewhere where they would fall prey to the twisted fantasies of deranged men, somewhere where their innocence -or what was left of it, anyway- would be stolen from them.

“Why, thank you, kind sir” Greta, another one of the girls, said. She was the Black Rose, with skin as dark as chocolate, black tendrils framing her face, and pouty lips painted in red. The African woman was one of the first girls who the Golden Rose had taken in, right after being brutally assaulted in the street a few months ago, and with time, and help from the rest, she had started to feel better, with others and, most importantly, with herself.

Footsteps echoed through the hallway, heels clicking loudly against pavement, making the girls get up in a hurry and put everything away, already knowing who they belonged to. After a few seconds, a body became visible behind the door, one dressed in an attire a bit different from the rest, but beautiful and attractive all the same. Blond hair hidden behind a platinum wig, eyes sparkling and wandering over each of the girls, the Golden Rose gave a slight but comforting smile to her protegees.

“It´s time, sweeties. Let´s rock the stage and give those assholes a night they won´t forget”.

Back in the stage room, almost every seat had been filled, bartenders busy serving drinks, security guards standing before every possible exit, eyes roaming, carefully inspecting every crevice, searching for any possible threats, especially now that the most important guests had arrived at _Dark Paradise_.

Steven Rogers and Bucky Barnes were the embodiment of perfection, bodies sculpted like gods, auras dark with mystery and danger. The Kings of Brooklyn each wore an elegant but expensive pair of dark blue jeans, paired with a white and black shirt respectively, a Rolex watch sitting on their left wrists, golden chains falling from their necks, hidden from view behind their upper piece of clothing.

Both men were flanked with a few members of their security team, mainly consisted of Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton and Sam Wilson, all dressed as luxuriously as their bosses, carefully keeping watch and analysing the newly opened establishment with both curiosity and alertness.

They all walked through the place until they spotted a young, blonde man sitting in one of the loveseats in the back of the room, a black-haired woman next to him, fingers intertwined while they drank from their respective glasses. Five men in black tuxedos and a woman in a black dress surrounded the pair, each holding their own choice of drink as well, chatting amongst themselves and straightening up when they saw who was approaching their boss.

Andrew lifted his eyes when he saw his group of personal guards stiffening, following their wary stares and coming to rest in the very men who had made everything that surrounded him possible. Getting up quickly, the blonde man reached towards them with his right hand, greeting them with a smile of respect.

“Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes” He said, words heavy with his accent, shaking hands with both of them, “Welcome to _Dark Paradise_ ”.

The former nodded, taking his hand back and letting it rest in the waistband of his trousers.

“Mr. Martinelli. Thank you for the invitation”.

The Italian shook his head, waving his hand in the air.

“Andrew, please. There´s no need of thanking me, it was you who made this possible”.

 _Yes, it was_ -they thought, but chose not to voice this out loud.

“Come and sit down, if you will. The show is about to start. Do any of you want a drink?”.

The blonde waved one of his guards over, instructing them to tell the bartenders to prepare a drink for the new arrivals, not paying attention as the Brooklyn men sat down, motioning for Romanoff, Barton and Wilson to do the same. Carefully checking that their guns were where they needed to be, they sat back just as their drinks were brought over and the lights were turned off, the stage lighting up and instantly making every occupant of the room put their focus on her.

She was sitting in the back of the stage, right atop a big structure forming a letter, a _P_ by the looks of it, one knee folded towards her chest while the other stretched out completely over the surface she was lying on.

_“Underneath the city lights, there is a world few know about…”_

Her voice was powerful, echoing throughout the whole space, and it instantly sent a shot of awareness through the Kings of Brooklyn´s bodies. It seemed familiar. Where had they heard it before?

_“Where rules don´t apply, no”_

The woman dragged a hand through the smooth skin of her leg, an enticing and seductive move on her part, letting her head fall back and exposing her neck.

_“And you can´t keep a good girl down”_

The words sent shivers up their spines, reminding them, even if only just for a moment, of past times, easier times, when they had a woman of their own to call “good girl”, times that had ended quite tragically for all of them.

In a matter of seconds, the stage was suddenly encased in more light, showing what they had all been missing: a whole group of female dancers, dressed in gold, revealing costumes that made most of the men in the room start drooling, moving their bodies as sexily as the one from before did. They all instantly erupted into cheers, relishing in the smiles they were given in return, raising their glasses in approval.

_“She going through the club, looking for a good time,_

_Gonna make that,_

_Shake that,_

_Money on the dime”_

Now that everything was alight, Steve and Bucky could see her more clearly. Just from a single glance, they could see she was a vixen. She was clearly wearing a wig, short, straight platinum hair adorning her face, eyes alight with mischief while she danced, lithe body moving rapidly with the music, creating the perfect symphony while she danced and sang, surrounded by the rest of femme fatales.

_“Don´t need a sugga daddy,_

_She´ll be working it just fine,_

_Up on the table,_

_She´ll be dancing all night,_

_He-he-he-he-ey”_

On and on they danced, the men´s voices getting louder and louder with each second that passed, all enraptured by the creatures performing on the stage, wondering just what kind of things they would be willing to do if they got a session with any of them in private, without the eyes of dozens of other participants set on them.

_“Babydoll, just come alive,_

_Under the spotlight,_

_All the girls wanna fall in line”_

The heads of the Brooklyn Mafia weren´t stupid, they knew just what those women were capable of doing when a man desperate for sex was in their presence, knew that they would be gathering information and passing it along to the one in charge, the main dancer most likely, who would later tell Martinelli. It was quite pathetic, really, how those men would be so engrossed in their own climaxes to keep their mouths shut in front of potential informants, but, of course, they didn´t know any better.

They, on the other hand, never let any of the women they had sex with get anything out of them, they were always careful and made sure to keep them quiet to avoid any future problems. They usually didn´t last long, anyway, their relationships mostly broke off after a week, and they made sure to buy them enough things to ensure they wouldn´t be a bother. There was only one woman who they had ever considered keeping indefinitely, and they hadn´t seen her in two years, though they didn´t delve in those memories, choosing to give all their attention to the woman in the centre of the stage, movements slower as the song entered its final notes.

_“Ok, girls, let´s show them how it´s done,_

_It ain´t over till we say,_

_And we´ve only just begun”_

The wig-wearing woman was snapping her fingers to the beat, teasing smile still plastered to her face, pouty lips moving as words spilled from her lips, waist tilted to the side, eyes roaming over the front of the crowd, never once looking at their table, something that, for whatever reason, displeased them.

_“Lemme hear you say yeah, yeah,_

_Say yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,_

_Say yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,_

_Say yeah, yeah, ye-e-e-e-e-ah”_

They started moving again, dancing faster than they were before, until their male counterparts suddenly and surprisingly joined them on the stage, bodies in perfect synchrony with each other, provoking the crowd to let out a few more cheers, hands in the air as their shouts increased.

_“Hit it up, get it up, won´t let you rest,_

_Hit it up, get it up, this is not a test,_

_Hit it up, get it up, gotta give me your best,_

_So get your ass up,_

_Show me how you burlesque”_

The chorus was repeated a few more times, up until two of the male dancers stepped closer to the main female one and lifted her in the air, twirling her form around until she was with her back to the crowd, waist held by both and back flexed towards the ground, leaving her almost upside down.

And in that moment, Steven Rogers and Bucky Barnes were suddenly thrown into the past. They ignored the music as it completely stopped, signalling the end of the performance. They paid no mind to the applause and the cheers and shouts of encouragement of the many mobsters that surrounded them. They took no notice of the smile of satisfaction in Andrew´s face at knowing just how greatly they would be benefited from this opening.

They ignored it all in favour of the main star, who had her eyes set on them, even upside down as she was, blue clashing with blue and grey, three souls reunited in the most unexpected of ways, marking the beginning of a new chapter in a story that they had thought forgotten.


End file.
